


bioilluminated

by boobearwantshishazza



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Angst, Sad, Suicide, goodbye letter, this is crap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 19:28:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10497942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boobearwantshishazza/pseuds/boobearwantshishazza
Summary: bucky has been at sea for a while now and he's done trying to return (has he tried at all?).





	

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this a long time ago and edited it a bit just now. its trash i know

Dear Steve,

 

It’s been weeks. The emergency kit has gradually emptied. There is nothing left but two generic Band-Aids, a worn and torn orange lifejacket, and a watermarked newspaper I had folded in my jacket pocket on the night of my departure. Four days after trailing away from all known traces of mankind, about the same time as my seasickness subsided, I found a small leather-bound journal accompanied by two #2 pencils. I filled each day with written details about what I was thinking, and sometimes when I was lucky, it was the things I saw.

            Society doesn’t give the sea consequential justice. There is literature, photography, paintings, and lives, devoted to embellishing the way the waves crash against the shore of empty beaches and the way the ocean leaves mystery in its wake after each retreating tide. And yet, most people are too afraid to swim in the salty water unless their feet can touch the sand. The sea creatures are portrayed as man-eating beasts complete with blood-drawing teeth, and deadly desires. However, it’s not like that. Not at all. There are animals who would engulf a man without a second thought. Food is food. Even still, the beauties of the ocean are no match for the inelegance. I have spent six weeks rocking on this wooden lifeboat, and I have stared death down multiple times. And still, I find that waiting for the splendor of each coming morrow is the best anxiety I have ever carried the burden of.

            The band of the watch on my wrist is fading and the face of the clock reads 9:49. The sun has circled over my head over the course of the day and its settling back into the calm waters in the west. Once the night falls, the wait will finally be over. Each day is a tireless strife filled with anticipation for the night. When it arrives, the sky lights up with stars. The ocean mirrors it and lights up with glowing bioluminescence. And sitting in this swaying boat becomes magical again. Trailing my hands through the chilled sea is like shooting fireworks through my fingertips. I await these moments each day. When it feels like I am literally leaving my mark on the world.

Back home where most people think I belong, where you think I belong, I ostracize myself. Loneliness is my best friend and he leaves cold handprints on my chest after long nights of insomnia. I work myself down to the bone, because I want to matter in this world. But I don’t. I know you think I do, but I don’t. I appreciate all you’ve done for me. But out here, out here in the middle of nowhere, I have a place. It isn’t defined at all. I am whoever I want to be. I haven’t had this immense sense of freedom in a long time. I am enjoying it for as long as I can because I know it will end.

I know it will end, and I know how it ends. I am not going to wait for hunger to eat me from the inside out. I am going to spend my ending, surrounded by what I’ve only spent a few weeks getting to know personally.

Bioluminescence is produced from the poisonous jellyfish most people never encounter on account of fear. Fear is the reason these people haven’t seen the beauty I have. Fear is the reason these people spend days on the sand, tanning, instead of appreciating the magnificence of the sea. Fear is the reason these people are losing opportunities. Bioluminescence isn’t as vastly valued because of fear.

I’m sorry.

Yours truly,

Buck(y)


End file.
